Inglorious 12th

We die in our droves
Sacrificed for
The men with guns
Those to abhor
Selfish Unsettling
Egoists who
Have a monopolistic
And covetous view

The moors the expanse
The heather the sky
The great spirit of kings
All of that is a lie
It’s an evil an ungodly
Degeneracy
That exposes their soul
To the limits we see

Nature and wildness
An impeccable scene
A great web of life force
Abundantly green
Predation and prey
In a true righteousness
Behold the unprincipled
The transgressors who
Have nefarious reasons
For all that they do

We die in our droves
In what is now obscene
It’s unjustifiable
So many mean
People about
Believing that they
Hold all the rights
Whatever we say

Aiding and abetting
Such conduct abroad
So many wild souls
Die by the sword
Quietly it’s thrust
In the dead of the night
Unashamed and unblushing
How is it right

The twelfth of August
it is the event
They call it glorious
As if it were meant
All of Gods creatures
Have value and they
Are indeed miracles
Held in good sway

So much obduracy
Never remorse
It’s all about murder
What of the source
Conscienceless brazen
For The families that mourn
Whilst grossness and high living
Shooters just yawn
around the table
Their hunting prowess
Braces of Red Grouse
Who witnessed the stress
Who escaped to the sky
Where the shooters lay still
Gun after gun
Recording the kill

It’s the shooting that does it
Brings life to the moors
The elite and the thoughtless
They come in their scores
It’s the gentlemen’s relish
To conquer the fear
To murder as many
And just bring the cheer

The indiscipline of it
Such Indulgent souls
Raping the countryside
Taking on roles
Of what are wrong doing
And improbity
So many dying
The dishonesty
Prevailing and sadly
Inglorious would
Be the true title
For there is no good

Coming out of this
The death and disquiet
Stink holes and traps
How can this be right
Punished for being
Where we were placed
The ultimate price
Utter distaste